Thank You for the Venom
by BelovedShadow
Summary: Harry was living a perfectly happy life with his wife and children after defeating Voldemort, but what happens when a cloaked figure arrives at his house, resulting in an event that has him stuck at Hogwarts with the charming young Tom Riddle? NC-17!


**Warning: This fanfic contains adult themes. Rated NC-17. **

**A/N: I'm gonna try and make each chapter between 3-5 thousand words, because the chapters in the Harry Potter books are between 3-5 thousand words, so I figure that's only fair. This fic is ****not**** AU and it is ****not**** EWE, so I hope you know that means it's not going to have a smooth sappy ending. Still, I would really love it if you enjoyed it for what it is: A very twisted love story! **

**Chapter One:**

Harry Potter sat cheerfully in his living room, thinking to himself that he'd never been happier than that exact moment. Upstairs, he could hear the calm white sound of the shower running, as his wife readied herself for bed. He could also hear, in the room beside her, the soft snoring of his daughter, Lily. His beautiful little girl had her uncle Ron's sleeping habits, and there was never a doubt as to whether or not she was awake. He found the snoring to be quite darling.

Across from that, came the careful whispers of his boys. They too could hear the shower running, and the knowledge that their mother was too preoccupied to scold them was allowing them a new level of boldness in their mission to chat with each other when they knew they should be asleep. Soon, Harry would get up and reprimand them himself, but for now he found peace in the excited voices – low though they may be. He was glad to know that the children were having that happy anxious feeling. Besides, this was the first night they'd had to go to bed at a certain time. It was the last night of the summer, and in the morning they'd be boarding the Hogwarts Express.

Hogwarts.

His home away from hell. It had taken Harry many years to accept that any place other than the large welcoming castle, with its moonlight touched towers, and it's secret passages and stone floors would be called his home. Still, with Ginny's help, he had adjusted to the idea – and now he was happy away from the school, and happy to pass it's magic on to his children. He was probably _most _happy to know that the adventures his little ones would have within the castle walls would be entirely different from his. Hogwarts still held its mystery, yes – but it was exquisitely less dangerous than it once was, and Lord Voldemort barely even haunted the _memories _of most attending students.

Harry's own children were, of course, very well trained in defending themselves. But he was relieved to know that every year was another three hundred sixty five days that they'd lasted without _needing _that training. They were safe. The world was safe. Knowing that simple fact was enough for Harry to have no regrets thus far. He'd suffered, sacrificed, and _bled _for this peace. So many had died, but they had made it worth it. They had, together, created this world – and it was quite perfect.

Smiling to himself, Harry rose from his seat and climbed the steps. He could still hear Ginny singing rather off-key in the shower, and deduced that she would remain there for quite a while longer. He crept across the hall to the boys' bedroom and opened the door before James had the time to scramble away from the chess board he'd set up on Teddy's bed.

"Dad!" Albus squealed excitedly, always happy to see his father – especially if it meant that his elder brothers were in trouble. The youngest of Harry's sons was tucked neatly into his bed, just exactly as his mother had left him, with a smile that said he hadn't been sleeping either; but wasn't stupid enough to risk getting caught out from under the duvet. Harry almost smirked. He'd decided a while back that he wouldn't be surprised at all if the boy was sorted into Slytherin tomorrow.

James and Teddy didn't even have the heart to look at him, they stared hatefully down at the chess board – as if glaring at it long enough would make it disappear, and destroy all evidence of their disobedience. Teddy's hair – usually a bright Gryffindor crimson, faded to a shy brown as Harry frowned at him.

"You know, your mother didn't put you to bed for her own convenience. You're going to be the ones sleeping through the train ride instead of talking to your friends if you don't get the rest."

As Harry expected, James – much like his namesake – was the first to argue. "But Dad, Teddy said-"

"And if Teddy decided to jump from a cliff?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrow at his most defiant offspring.

Albus perked up at this instead, though. "Oh, I know! Throw him a broomstick, right? No – we should levitate him back, right, Dad? Will I learn the charm to do that? Oh, oh! Or we could transfigure the ground below him into a million feathers! Grandma McGonagall already taught me some of that this summer, just theory of course, I wouldn't _dare _do magic outside of school…"

James snorted. "Tch. If it's _Al _off the cliff, remind me to just let him fall."

Teddy laughed at that, but Harry gave the boy a warning look. He was just opening his mouth to rebuke the child, when pattering feet were heard in the hallway, and a loud desperate wail of "Daddyyyy!" could be heard.

James, understanding that he would have been in for it if not for his sister's excellent timing, shuffled quickly out of Teddy's four poster and up into his bunk above Albus' bed. Harry gave them one last look that clearly meant they'd be in real trouble if he caught them awake again, and exited their bedroom, listening to find where it was that his daughter had scampered off to in her frantic search for him.

"Lily? Where are you sweetheart?"

He checked her bedroom, then his, and in realizing that she must have been downstairs alone – he automatically grabbed his wand before heading there. The first floor of his house was empty as well, but he could hear her crying in the back yard. She must have thought he was out on the patio reading, it wasn't unheard of. He stepped outside and froze, immediately shoving his wand forward towards the dark cloaked figure that was holding tightly on to his daughter. He faltered slightly, when he realized that Lily seemed to be calming in this stranger's arms, but didn't let his guard down.

"Put her down." He said firmly, and the cloaked figure immediately did so, allowing Lily to do her best impression of a sprint as she rushed back to her father's side and grabbed onto the back of his pajama pants. For a moment, he considered telling Lily to go back inside, but decided better for it. He could hear the shower turning off, and the whispers of the boys again. Ginny would go check on them. They'd be safe with her, and Lily would be safe with him. There was no telling who could be _between _Ginny and himself, though – so he wouldn't send her back in alone. He deduced all of this in a split second, and the cloaked figure raised its hands in surrender.

"I would not harm your daughter, Mr. Potter. Maybe once, but not after what you did for my son."

He recognized the voice. Not at first, but only a few moments after the woman had spoken.

"Narcissa?" He hissed, not knowing why on earth this woman would show up at his house.

"Yes, Harry… if I may call you Harry?" She stopped then, clearly waiting for an actual answer. Harry actually appreciated the gesture. Most people questioned their right to address him by his given name, but few actually waited for him to permit in earnest.

"Yeah, go on."

"I arrived here, intent on knocking, when your Lily came outside. I did not lure her here, nor do I have any business with your family. I swear it."

Harry nodded, deciding to accept this as fact at least for the moment, but remembering that it may be a lie in case he had to process this information later. "Why not the front door?"

"There are many who would still title me with the term _Death Eater, _Mr. Potter. I didn't think myself someone to be seen at your doorstep, so I came through the back."

He gave another stiff nod. This was also plausible. "So what do you want?"

"You must remember, Mr. Potter, that although my sister and I both married young, we were originally Narcissa and Bellatrix _Black._" The woman said with much hesitance, as if this was a fact that shamed her greatly.

"Yes, I know. So what?"

"When I married Lucius, I chose to take his name and his lordship – thus disassociating myself entirely from the family. Many people have done that, and in the final battle, there were only two left who still had any claim to the Black family name and all that comes with it. That would be Bellatrix and Nymphadora. Why Nympha-"

"Tonks," Harry corrected somewhat bitterly. "She liked to be called Tonks."

If Harry could see Mrs. Malfoy's face, he'd know that she'd rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, why _Tonks _never detached herself legally from the Blacks is beyond me, but the fact remains that she was one of the last, and they are both now dead. Meaning that the only heirs are you, through your connection to Sirius, and her son – which also goes back to _you _as his guardian."

Harry frowned. He loved Sirius, yes. However, he truly had no interest in being associated with the Black family either. As far as he was concerned, Sirius and Tonks were the only ones related to that lot who were worthy of wiping spit from his boots.

"So what, we've inherited something?"

"To be frank, Mr. Potter, your adopted son has just inherited _everything_. You've got a little, yes, but most relatives had cut Sirius out of their wills, so not much coming your way, I'm afraid. I know that you probably don't want or need any of it, but think about the _child, _Harry. He can't stay with you forever. He'll want to understand his lineage, and he deserves to have the money and properties that are rightfully his."

Harry nodded. She was right. If there was _one _thing that was good about Narcissa Malfoy – she was rather family oriented, especially when it came to children. It didn't surprise him that she'd managed to sooth Lily.

"So, what do I have to do?"

"My grandson Scorpius will be going to Hogwarts tomorrow. Draco will take him to the train that morning – and if you wish to legally claim what's yours, you need only go with Draco to do the paperwork."

Harry nodded, though quite reluctantly. He truthfully still held quite a few childish grudges against Malfoy, but Narcissa was right. If Teddy ever showed an interest in being a Black, he had a right to everything that entitled him to – including the wealth.

So, the next day as Ginny escorted Lily home, Harry found himself walking over to Malfoy. The blond didn't look much different than he had in his school days, but he wasn't bitter or cruel to Harry.

"Potter, this way." He said it calmly, and Harry supposed there wouldn't be much conversation between them. They made their way out of Kings Cross station, to the parking lot, and Harry was mildly amused to see that even when it came to muggle artifacts like cars – the Malfoys insisted on the best of the best. Draco drove a beautiful silver Ferrari with platinum rims, that shone emerald green if you stared at them for long enough. The muggles must have thought it was an optical illusion.

"I suggest we do this somewhere neutral, Potter? Certainly not my house or yours. Where would we both feel comfortable?"

Harry shrugged, looking out of the passenger seat window as Malfoy put the key into the ignition, and wondering if the brat knew how to drive. He highly doubted that the man would have thought it a skill worthy of learning, but when he brought it up – Malfoy snappily mentioned that unlike Harry's blood-traitor friends, he thought it more practical to charm a car into _driving itself _than into _flying. _Harry could say nothing to argue- but pulled a rude face anyway for the sake of Mr. Weasley's honor. It occurred to Harry that there weren't a great many people that he and Malfoy both had respect for. In fact, there was only _one. _Ah! That's where they'd go!

"How about Professor Snape's old house? Do you know where that is?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow – not having understood why the home of their former potion's teacher would be considered neutral territory, but that was fine. Harry didn't need to explain his relationship with Severus. He doubted he _could _actually – it was so complex that there wasn't ever a moment that he and Snape were both alive and well in its current condition. When they were both alive, Snape hated Harry. Hell, he _died _hating Harry – and didn't earn Harry's respect until _after _his death!

Nonetheless, he had it now, and obviously Malfoy liked the greasy git – so they drove the car to a spot where no one would see them get out of it, and apparated to Spinners End.

When they got there, Harry wanted to be sick on the spot. He hated traveling like that even more than he hated Portkey's – and that was saying something. They magicked their way into the locked door, and frowned at the scent of an abandoned home. Harry went immediately to try and find a potion for his nausea, as Malfoy set up the paperwork on Snape's desk.

Harry would wonder later, why he hadn't considered that being a spy for Dumbledore might give Snape reason to deliberately mislabel his potions. He would wonder later why he hadn't considered that even if they _were _labeled correctly, they'd been sitting in this house for _years _and could easily have tampered themselves merely through so much time sitting. He would _wonder _why it was that Snape kept a potion like the one that he ended up taking in the first place, and what value the dungeon bat would have seen in making it whenever he had.

But as Harry easily downed what he _thought _was a potion against Nausea, he hadn't thought to wonder any of those things. He swallowed it all in one gulp, and then began to walk downstairs, noticing with every step that he knew less and less why he was walking and where he was going. By the time he reached the bottom, he was quite lost and confused to see a strange platinum blond man trying to hand him a piece of paper.

"What's this?" Harry asked, studying the paper with interest and trying to figure out where he was.

"The paperwork, Potter. Hurry up I don't have all day." The blond hissed, shoving a quill into Harry's hands along with the strange paper. The blond then froze, and stared at him intently.

"Oh, God… what'd you drink?"

"Drink?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side in consideration. "I don't remember… Where am I? Who are you? Are we friends? I'd like that, I don't think I've got any…"

The blond looked thoroughly aggravated. "You've got _plenty, _you idiot. I have no idea why you thought you'd drink something in Snape's house, I wouldn't be surprised if the tap ran _potions_ instead of water…"

"Snape?" The name had no meaning to Harry, as he tried desperately to remember why he felt like it _should _have had some sort of reaction.

He was aware, however, that he must have had something that made him lose his memory. He knew that he was Harry Potter. He knew that he was a wizard. He knew a great number of spells and enchantments and other basic skills … but friends? He had no knowledge of the existence of anyone aside from himself. Fuck. That would really suck if he _did _have friends, huh?

"I'm sorry if we're friends, but I don't think I know who you are…"

"We're not. My names Draco Malfoy and I quite dislike you, actually. _Legilimens!" _

Harry gasped as his mind remembered having a stomach ache, and knowing that he was somewhere where he could get relief for it. He re-lived himself going upstairs, reading a bottle that promised to take the gagging pain away, and then … nothing. He could still feel the blond prodding around in his head, but he was unable to look back on whatever the man was seeing.

Malfoy frowned. "Your memories are still _here _it seems, you just can't access them. How odd." He looked at Harry again and shook his head. "Also, in case you didn't notice – your bodies gone back to you at about sixteen years old…"

Harry looked down at himself. Yes. He did look sixteen. A little scrawny for sixteen, perhaps. But… wasn't he sixteen? Evidently not, according to the distasteful glare on the half-stranger's face.

"My memories… hmmm… memories get looked at in a pensieve, right? I feel like that's where I've seen some before… have I?"

Malfoy shrugged, unaware of whether or not Potter had ever looked into a pensieve, but it _was _a good idea. He carefully opened Snape's cabinet, and fished around, retrieving a large black basin. He then raised his wand to Harry's head, and carefully removed the entirety of Harry's memory. It would probably take a _really _long time for Harry to look through it all, but that was better than nothing, right? The boy who lived looked rather skeptically at the thing.

"Are you _sure _that's a pensieve? It looks different than I remember…"

"You _don't _remember, you tool. Hurry up and come look. The sooner you start, the sooner it's done, then you can sign these papers, and we can both leave."

Still frowning in hesitation, Harry leaned forward. He knew somehow that however similar to a pensieve this thing might be, it _wasn't _what he thought he remembered. He allowed himself to sink into it – and the first image he saw was himself in a strangely familiar office, leaning forward into something that really _was _a pensieve. So what, this was a pensieve that only let you see memories with other pensieves?

Curiously, Harry walked over to his _other _self – looking around the same age as himself now, and leaned into _that _pensieve to see what it was he was seeing. As soon as he was thrown back, he knew something was wrong.

His mind supplied him with the knowledge that this place he'd appeared in was called Hogwarts. Yet, he was certain that he'd _never _seen Hogwarts like this before. No, once… he'd seen it like this once … his brain briefly displayed a flash of a diary covered in thick black ink, and he felt the scar on his forehead flare in disagreement of the memory.

No, this wasn't a pensieve at all. Harry realized that for _sure _when he bumped into someone's back. This wasn't a memory – or he wouldn't be able to be a part of it. This was real. He was really here. He was back at Hogwarts, in his sixteen year old body, in a corridor that was oddly familiar. He glanced at what appeared to be just a wall, and felt a strange knowledge that it was more than that sometimes. As he blinked, he could have sworn that just for a moment he saw a door appear, but it was gone as soon as it came.

The body he'd bumped in to, turned around and looked at him curiously. It was a boy. A very handsome boy. He was around Harry's age – sixteen, seventeen at most. He smiled politely at Harry's hasty apology, and stuck out his hand, ignoring the strange spark that occurred when he shook it against Harry's.

"You seem lost. Are you a new student?"

Harry nodded, for lack of a better thing to do.

"I didn't see you on the train. Are you just getting here?"

Again, Harry answered the stranger with a nod. He was rewarded with another beautiful smile.

"I see, I guess you haven't been sorted yet. Not to worry, I'm sure you get along just fine. What's your name?"

"Harry Potter." Harry answered honestly, and he decided that the smile the other boy gave him was the most charming thing he'd ever seen.

"Glad to meet you, Harry. My name is Tom Riddle."

**A/N: So, how's that for a first chapter? Not too boring, I hope… Please let me know what you think in a review! **

**Thank you so much for reading this,**

**-Beloved**


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